One Step At A Time
by demoncat22
Summary: His love life has been a little off-kilter lately, what with the happenings between Laura and Daniel. Drinking his sorrows away, he meets another blond who sparks something different in him.
1. Encounters

_Characters belong to their respective owners._

_There wasn't a Rory/John story anywhere. So i made one. *shrugs*_

* * *

Rory glared furiously into the liquid depths of his second pint, the very same one he was gripping so tightly his knuckles were white.

How could she do this to him? _How_ could she even _think_ of- His brother, sure, he wasn't too surprised, but Laura? _Laura_? He trusted her to keep faithful, trusted her and trusted their relationship. She introduced him to her _parents, for GOODNESS SAKE!_

He thought they _had_ something.

"One more!" he called at the bartender, doing a double-take when he realized the man was too busy grinning at the very hot woman at the other end at the bar.

His lips twisted into a slight scowl.

He had done a lot of good, didn't he? Kept his goddamned mess of a father from freaking out over what was probably _nothing_ at all, arranged a PARTY for the very man who had forgotten his own wedding anniversary just after his girlfriend broke up with him by having _sex_ with his _**brother**__. _Selfish brother who thought about nothing but himself.

He wasn't even surprised.

A soft thunk sounded in front of him, the crystal base of a glass just at the edge of his field of vision. He looked up to see a boy, or a teenager, his age. But that wasn't the first thing he saw about the boy.

The first thing was his eyes. His light smiling eyes that looked sort of like a cloudy sky, grey and blue in a beautiful mix.

That was when he stopped his thoughts violently.

No. _No. _He did _not _just think that way about a _guy_.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," the boy said, smiling amusedly, "My boss," there he jerked his thumb towards the sleazy bartender hitting on that blond chick, "He only waits on you if you're a girl."

"It's- ah, it's fine."

Why on earth was he blubbering? He was acting like he had when he was trying to get Laura to date him.

He snapped his eyes to his drink in a panic. _Shit_.

"It's all fine." he muttered.

He looked up again; the boy was smiling at him, twinkling blue eyes dragging over him slowly before settling to meet his gaze.

"What?" a nervous laugh left him involuntarily, shifting uncomfortably in his seat – why was it so hard?!

"It's all fine." the boy echoed, "Thanks for the look, by the way."

"What look?"

"The _I find him attractive_ look." The boy smirked faintly – it wasn't an unpleasant smirk, it was kind, perhaps a little amused, "It's not as uncommon as you think around here."

"Who-who said I found you attractive?" he managed with a small smile, congratulating himself on being able to come up with that comeback and not fall over himself like an idiot as he brought his drink up to his lips.

"As I said. Not as uncommon as you think." He received a wink that made him choke on his whiskey.

"I'm not gay." He said hurriedly, putting his drink down a little bit too harshly, "I have a girlfriend. I mean, I _had_… she's gone and had sex with my brother."

The boy, wiping his hands on his jeans as he reached under the counter for a glass, made a sympathetic noise as he re-emerged, "I know exactly how that feels; I'm bisexual myself. And my sister keeps stealing my girlfriends."

His eyebrows rose up despite himself, as he watched the boy serve up two cocktails to a couple at the end, "She does?" he asked once the boy returned.

"Yep." A huff, "Seduces them with her never-ending charm and wit, apparently."

"You must want to strangle her." He muttered, taking a sip from his own beer.

"I've had my moments, probably going to have a lot more moments." The boy gave him another look, from his chest to his eyes, "Decided to go for men. Safer around her."

A nervous laugh bubbled from his lips, and he ducked his head down to avoid meeting the boy's gaze.

"Here's my number."

His eyes widened, and yet he grasped the slip of paper carefully, unsure of what to say, or what to do. He opened his mouth to object, but his breath caught in his throat when he raised his head and met the boy's kind smile; it was bright, impossibly bright, the curve of his lips was very nice too…

Bloody hell.

"My shift ends at 11 30, if you're willing to wait. This isn't casual sex, mind." The boy added with a wagging finger, "I'm looking for a relationship. If you show up, then I know you're willing to give it a go. If you don't, then I gave it a shot."

Right.

He backed out of his seat, almost stumbling out over his feet, "I'll think about it." It was the best he could do, riddled with his breakup and murky with alcohol.

The boy bowed theatrically, flashing him a cheeky smile. "All I can ask."

* * *

He felt a little chilly despite his jacket, especially the tips of his fingers, so he stuffed them in his jacket's pockets with a small irritated huff, his feet aching in his shoes as he made his way down the streets. He could already see his house at the end, bright lights and loud music and all.

And his brother banging away into his girlfriend.

He cursed quietly into the night, abruptly stopping in his tracks just a few houses from his own.

He brought his arm up to peer at the time – 9 32.

The number in his pocket burned at his mind, and when he thought back, it was to the young bartender's kind smile and warm eyes, the curve of is lips and arch of his eyebrows, his ruffled blond hair that looked gold under the horrible lighting of the bar.

He supposed it wouldn't be horrible to date a guy.

Paul was okay with lesbians, he should be okay with him being a… gay. Or, what was it the boy said? Bisexual? What did that even mean?

He brought his arms up to ruffle through his hair, as if he could shake the answers out of his head.

How did gays have sex? Could they even…?

_Argh_, what was he thinking? He couldn't do this. He wasn't gay. He had liked women all his life, probably always will.

He trudged in through the gate, eyes wandering up to the window to Daniel's room, which was brightly lit. He glared.

What the hell.

He was sick of his brother seducing his girlfriends.

It could be a refreshing change. A boy didn't sound too bad anymore.

He decided he'd go back to the pub and wait it out. Maybe get to know the mysterious boy a little better before he made his decision. Didn't even know his name.


	2. Decisions Decisions

The boy came back, and it wasn't even 10 yet. He checked. Gareth – or Gary, who was actually a sweet guy beneath his creepy, flirting self – had eventually gotten around to serving customers who weren't female after he reminded his boss that he would demand extra pay if he was going to let him do everything.

It was just him and the boss from 6 30 to 11 30, then the morning shift crew took over, Robert and Catrina. Just the two of them. It was a small pub, but it had quite the name or itself, seeing as it was the only pub in the neighbourhood.

He watched out of the corner of his eye as the ginger slid into a booth at a corner of the pub and tried not to look out of place all alone.

He returned his focus to the pair of chuckling twins at the counter, who just asked for a Mojito. Going to share, it looked like. They were laughing about something their little sister had done to their younger brother for looking into her dairy.

He tapped in two teaspoon of sugar into the cocktail shaker before adding in white rum. With a few hard shakes, he poured it into a cocktail glass, "Here you go, guys."

"Bit young, aren't you?" one of them asked as the other peered cautiously into the drink.

"I'm 18, boys. Legal age to be working."

"This isn't bad for us, is it?" the other one piped up, looking up from his cocktail at him.

"First time at a pub?" he quirked an eyebrow, uncorking a bottle of beer and grabbing a clean glass quickly as his ears caught an order for one.

The red-headed twins exchanged glances before grinning cheekily at him, "Yeah, you could say that." They said in unison.

His eyebrows rose slightly, a smirk toying at his lips, "I'm impressed," he slid the glass of beer to the man at the end of the counter, then turned back to the two, "You practice that?"

"Do we?" the one on the left asked his brother.

"Should we tell him?"

He laughed, shaking his head, "Alright then. Keep your little secret."

He turned to Gary, "I'm taking orders, take over for me, yeah?" and didn't wait before he left the counter, heading straight for the ginger, who had seen him coming and was looking down at the menu as if totally engrossed in it.

It was kinda cute, in a way; how shy he was.

"Can I get you anything?"

The boy looked up at him, as if surprised he was there, "Oh. It's you."

He smiled, spinning the pen in his fingers, "Back for more whiskey?"

"You know, I was thinking," the ginger started, eyes cast on the wooden table before him, a finger jabbing lightly at a crack, "I don't even know your name, and we're thinking about a relationship."

He smirked amusedly and spring green eyes turned to him interestedly, waiting for his answers, "I'm John."

"Ah. Rory."

He shook the offered hand, meeting _Rory's_ budding smile with his own, visibly trying hard not to over-react despite his nervousness being almost tangible. Straight guys were so adorable sometimes.

"John! Stop flirting with the customer!"

He blushed a light pink, barely visible in this lighting, but Rory obviously caught it, if the small smirk was any indication. He cleared his throat, "Well, what would you like to order?"

"Um…" Rory looked down at the menu, "The Blue Lagoon looks… nice."

"That all?"

"Yeah, unless you recommend anything else."

He smiled, pleasantly surprised at the sudden boost of confidence Rory seemed to have had, "You don't look very hungry, a snack, maybe?" he bent over the table to trail his finger down the list of snacks, "The salt and vinegar potato chips is a favourite."

"I'll have that too then."

"And I'll be right back with your order."

* * *

"It's 11 30."

Robert had arrived, the boss had turned in for the night, having no intention of coming out until late in the day, and Catrina had called to inform she would be late. That was okay though – the customers had thinned, and at 1, most would have gone home; there wouldn't be a mass until 4 in the morning.

It was like this every day.

He slid into the booth Rory was at, sitting opposite him, "Made your decision?"

Rory had locked his fingers together when he saw him approach and was probably pleasantly buzzed enough for this conversation.

"You already know that my girlfriend recently broke up with me."

He inclined his head politely, "Yes."

"Though I want to… give this, us, a go, I don't want my emotions about my ex-girlfriend to get in the way of what we could be. It would be… selfish of me, to hurry this along. She hasn't even officially broken up with me. It's just that she keeps _banging_ my _brother_."

Rory's eyebrows creased and his lips twisted into angrily, emotions exaggerated by the alcohol in his blood, probably, and his fingers curled into fists. He ducked his head down, as if hiding his face, lips pursed.

He pressed his lips together sympathetically, "Yeah?" he encouraged softly, ignoring the way the music dipped, ignoring Robert, basically, who was a bloody romantic.

"He flaunts it, _taunts_ me with it," Rory's shoulders rose tensely, "In the middle of having sex with Laura, he called me. He called me and left the bloody phone on."

Jeez. He winced, because though Harry does occasionally steal his girlfriends, at least she never taunted him so openly.

He placed his hand gently against Rory's right fist, curling his fingers around the other boy's hand.

"Just after me and Laura had a row." Rory squeezed his hand, shoulders slumping as all rage left him, "And Daniel has a _girlfriend, _who is in Thailand, and is Laura's sister. _How can he do that?_"

He had no idea. The idea that someone could was inconceivable to him.

"I'm sorry."

A sudden quiet understanding dawned on him. Rory wasn't all that ready, so he pulled his hand back, but the ginger grabbed onto it, both hands clasped warmly around it.

Rory looked at him, looking as if he had something he wanted to say, and after all his contemplating, he would say it, "You really mean that, don't you?"

"Of course." He said, offering a careful smile as his eyes strayed to their hands, "I understand. You're not sure. I suppose it was too soon-"

Rory leaned over the table and pressed his lips to his in a hesitant awkward kiss.

His eyes widened in surprise, pleasant surprise, mind, because he didn't object, at all.

"That alright?" Rory asked after he pulled away, clearing his throat abashedly, looking at him with an expectant expression, a light blush at his cheeks.

He smiled, "Yeah. That's alright. You made your decision then. Not too wasted, are you?"

"I have high tolerance for alcohol." Rory told him, then looked uncertain for a moment, humming lightly, "We're boyfriends now?"

"That's what the kiss meant, didn't it?"

"Yup." The word rolled off Rory's tongue in a way that made him give a small laugh of delight, or perhaps that was because he just found a new boyfriend after the last one, the _other one_, a year ago.

He stood up from his seat, "Need help getting back?"

"Not really."

He shrugged, just as Rory stood up from his own seat, hands snaking into his jacket.

Rory stalled at the door, lingering there uncertainly, in a way that told him that he wanted to say something. So he threw his coat over his shoulders, but made no move to walk out the door, waiting for Rory to say whatever he wanted to say.

"There's… a party at my place." Rory finally did.

"What?" it came out like a sort of disbelieving laugh, raising his eyebrows.

"My parent's anniversary, a wedding party, and… a friend of my father's apparently just keeled over." Rory said awkwardly, slowly, halting after a few words as he looked out the window, "They're having a really loud party. Everyone from the neighbourhood is at our house. We can go to my bedroom."

He raised an eyebrow, just as what Rory said caught up with him and he flushed.

"Moving a bit too fast, don't you think?" he questioned.

"Not- we're not doing anything yet," Rory coughed, embarrassedly, "I just thought- urgh, never mind, just- forget I said anything,"

"Going over to my boyfriend's house so early _is_ rather unusual for me." He admitted, hands clasped behind his back as he rocked back on his heels, "But, if it's a party…"

Rory turned to him in surprise, "Really?" as a smile started to creep across his lips.

He gave the pretence of thinking it for a few seconds longer, humming lightly, before he turned to the ginger, "Yeah. Not a fan of loud noises though, so."

"We're not doing anything."

"We're not doing anything." He repeated.


	3. Getting To Know You

He managed to bring John up to his room without anyone questioning anything, a warm hand clasped in his larger one as he pulled him up the stairs, squeezing past beefy man hollering songs and chattering women.

When he looked back, John was laughing delightedly at the merriment downstairs, gunmetal blue eyes roaming over everyone before turning to him as they stopped at the door to his room.

The blond struck him as someone who found joy in everybody else's, and so far it was rather appealing to him.

He pulled him into his room, shutting the door behind them.

"It _is_ a loud party."

"Yup…"

John's kind blue eyes found him, "How do you do that?"

"What?" an eyebrow rose as he sat down at the edge of his bed, slightly self-conscious of his messy room – not that it was very messy.

John didn't seem to mind.

"When you say _yup_," John said, his bed creaking as he sat next to him, "It just rolls off your tongue."

"You like it when I say _yup_?" he smiled amusedly, hands clasped together in front of him.

John may or may not have turned the palest shade of pink, a colour that looked surprisingly endearing on him, now that he could see it a little better, his room lights better than the ones at the pub, "Yup." The blond drawled, possibly in an imitation of him.

"Is that supposed to be me?"

"That's how you say it, isn't it?"

"No it's not!"

John giggled, looking even younger when he did, crinkles at the end of his laughing blue eyes, and he was suddenly very, very aware that he was flirting with a boy, a boy who was flirting back, just after his fiasco with Laura.

It was fun. Despite feeling out of his depth, a bit in foreign territory, he liked speaking to John like this, just like this, like talking to a friend but more… more.

John cleared his throat, smile softening, "I don't usually do this." He said, shrugging slightly as if suddenly unsure with himself. He supposed he wasn't the only one nervous.

"Do…?" he tilted his head.

"First date. Your house."

"Would you have preferred your house?"

John reared up, a hand against his chest in an affronted fashion, "You cheeky little-"

He laughed, "I'm taller than you, you know."

"I'm growing!"

He and John spent the rest of the night getting to know each other; he learned about the sister, he learned that John's mother ran out on them when he was a child, and that was why he had to work despite being younger than him by 2 years. He told John about the situation in his own household, and in a way, it was just like talking to a mate.

At 2 15, John decided he couldn't possibly stay up any longer.

He immediately felt guilty for keeping the blond up, especially after the tiring day of work John clearly just had, "It's like that every day, really." John told him, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "No big deal."

"Bed?" he offered tentatively, heart jumping to his throat.

John grinned at him, "Was going to anyway." He teased, leaning over to peck him on the cheek lightly before burrowing his way into the covers.

"You were just taking advantage of me the entire time?" he pouted, shrugging his shoes off and slipping into bed with the dirty blond, flicking his table lamp off.

John made a sleepy noise at the back of his throat that should not have been so endearing, curling up against him.

He hesitated before he said it, wondering if there was any kind of cue he had missed, "Goodnight, John." He said softly.

He felt John smile against his collarbone, pressing his lips against it affectionately.

This wasn't so bad after all, he thought to himself as he drifted off, arms curled loosely around the smaller body next to him.

* * *

_First dates don't usually end like this, but back then - year 2000 - people weren't so paranoid and were more friendly to neighbours or people on the streets._


	4. Before Anyone Else

When he reluctantly roused himself from sleep, more from habit of younger days just like this, it was to the sound of banging and shrieks.

Rory was right. They never seemed to stop, did they?

Oh wait. It's stopped now.

And he forgot to call his father.

Scrambling off the bed to fumble through his jacket pockets, he grabbed his phone and pursed his lips nervously at the number of calls he had missed; his phone was almost always on silent.

He called back to Harry's.

"John, you bastard!" came the shriek into his ears.

He winced, and the first words he said were, "I'm sorry."

"Where the bloody hell are you?! What's the point of getting a mobile phone if you're not going to bloody _pick up_? Been calling you all NIGHT!"

"I'm so, so sorry." He said softly, "I completely forgot. Tell father it's my fault."

"Why are you whispering? Are you in a drugs den?"

"No- Harry. I do apologize for not calling, I was asleep,"

"Where?" his sister demanded, "At the _bar_?"

"I'm… well I found a boyfriend." He said hesitantly, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for her to blow up at him; she never approved of boys. Not so much that they were the same sex as him, no, she couldn't say anything there, more that they were boys. "Stayed at his for the night."

"When did this happen?!"

He took a deep breath, then went all in, "Last night."

"WHAT THE HELL, JOHNNY!"

He jerked away from his mobile, Harry's shriek loud enough for him to hear even without at the required distance, "No, he's different," he managed, an attempt to shut her up.

"How do you know?" she demanded, but that was Harry, always demanding things, being a smudge overprotective, over everything, the bullies at school, homophobes by the street.

He shrugged, a reflex before he realized she couldn't see him, "He seemed nice."

"_Nice_." Harry said it as if it were a bad word, "All of them seems _nice_ at first, that's how they reel you IN!"

"Harry…"

"Boys are BAD. Why do you think I go for girls?!"

"Because you're gay. And though I'm bisexual, you always take my girlfriends, somehow. And I want to try this. You have to let me try this. I'm not usually wrong about people."

"Except that time when you were very wrong."

He stilled, but Harry never took anything back. The line crackled as she waited for him to speak, obviously not going to speak herself. "Harry."

"I'm just looking out for you, John."

"I have a good feeling about him." He said feebly at last, "Let me try."

Her silence answered him more than her words ever could, and though he liked to deny it, her approval was always very dear to him. A hesitant smile tugged at his lips, "Thank you."

She harrumphed, "You're still in trouble." She snapped.

"I'm sorry. Tell father I really am."

He ended the call, tension bleeding from his shoulders as he grasped at the warming device less tightly. Father wouldn't be pleased, he believed in... what was it, tough love? He meant well, though. He'd taught them to be careful, and what he did last night was so far from careful one could laugh at the absurdity of it.

He turned around, eyebrows shooting up as he caught Rory's stare, "You're awake."

"Mm-hm."

"Are you panicking?"

He hoped not. Rory shook his head, pushing himself to a sitting position, "Not presently. Everything alright with your folks?"

He looked down at his mobile phone, "Yeah," he looked up and smiled reassuringly, "I worked it out."

"What time is it?"

Well shit.

He completely forgot about the time, and shoved his phone in his pocket just as Rory glanced at his alarm clock. "I'm late for school." He said, voice strained, as he pulled on his jacket and hurried into his shoes, "I'm so…"

"Dead?"

"Cheeky little bastard." He leaned over Rory to kiss him gently on the lips, a nudging, slow one quite unlike the ones last night, or this morning, "There. Something to remember me by."

"I'll see you… later?"

"Will probably be grounded." He noted a bit ruefully.

"Grounded?" Rory furrowed his eyebrows, "You're not a child anymore."

"Not in their eyes." He sighed, a hand on the doorknob, "Shall I sneak out?"

Rory blinked rapidly, as if he had missed something, "Why would you need to…?"

"You're not really awake, are you?" he smiled, a small, sweet quirk of his lips, "How rude." And no wonder he wasn't freaking out. "Well, you won't want to break the news to your parents like this, will you?"

Rory stared at him a little bit longer, fumbling to catch up, obviously, if by the way he kept flopping his mouth were anything to say about it. "Like…?"

He sighed, leaning forward to snog Rory thoroughly for a good minute before he pulled back. Rory's hands fell to his side from where they had been buried in his hair, chest heaving and lips gleaming with wet.

There. Much more awake.

"I have to go. Do you want me to sneak out?"

"N-no. Just… leave and I'll see you later."

"Really?" he smiled.

"Yup."

He opened the door and closed it behind him when he stepped into the hallway, almost completely certain Rory was going to have a sexual crisis in the room, alone.

In the meantime, he walked down the stairs as silently as he could, hearing the shower run, which meant people were awake, which meant he had better leave.


	5. Breaking The News

"Who was that?"

He jerked up from where he had slowly sank into back into bed, heart hammering in his chest as he stared at Edwin leaning against the doorway, looking for all the world as if he had always been there.

"Who was what?"

"That boy that just left."

He averted his eyes, mouth already opening to form some sort of excuse, "A friend." Because wasn't that the way one started? As friends?

_John is nothing to be ashamed of, _something at the back of his mind said firmly.

His little brother raised an eyebrow, "Yeah?"

"Yes."

"Why then, do you both look like you just had a good snog?"

He shook his head, "Excuse me?"

_John is nothing to be ashamed of._

Someone had told him, or something had happened, if by the way John had looked so certain he wanted him to leave as quietly as possible, to make John ashamed of himself. He may not be the smartest person, but he knew that if he were sleeping with a female, he wouldn't be hesitating to say it.

"Are my eyes deceiving me?" Edwin drawled.

"Listen." He started, shoving his covers away, "You can't tell anyone."

"Oh bloody hell it's true." Edwin looked fascinated, as if he were a specimen to be poked and prodded at, and his eyes narrowed irately.

"Edwin. You don't tell anyone. _I'll_ tell… eventually."

His brother closed the door behind him, stepping into his room, "No wonder you're not bothered by the banging. So when did you meet this boy?"

"Last night."

"Huh." Edwin's eyes flickered to the ceiling in thought, "Well he _is_ hot. In a way. I see the appeal."

"You can't tell, alright?" he insisted, hands grasping at the edge of his bed.

"Fine, fine."

* * *

He pressed his lips together, a finger tapping against the arm rest as his mother pulled up at the charity homeless shelter, but he made no move to get out.

"What is it?"

"Mum…"

Because she meant a lot to him, and he didn't want her disapproval. If she asked him to cut it off, he would. He really would.

"Yes?"

"What- what do you think of gays?"

She frowned, confused, and he watched her carefully, as discreetly as possible, out of the corner of his eye. "I'm alright with them. I suppose. They can't help the way they were born. Why?"

"So you wouldn't mind if… say, Edwin, was… gay?" he ended weakly, spine ramrod straight as he watched her eyes widen.

He wasn't throwing his brother under the bus, he was just feeling things out.

"Why? Did Edwin say anything to you?"

"No. It was just a question."

"Oh." She made a thoughtful noise at the back of her throat, looking out the car, "I could handle it. It wouldn't be the end of the world. It's just… strange, you know."

He nodded, smiling painfully as he met her eyes, "Yeah, yeah."

"But it's totally fine," she added hurriedly, "If Edwin is gay. Fine."

"Right."

Estelle frowned at the wheel, as if piecing something together, which would be fine, because he found it would be a lot easier than saying it out himself, but then what left her lips were "He _had_ been ordering dildo's."

"What- Edwin?"

His mother nodded, turning to him, "I don't think it would be that much of a shock." She said to him, as if confiding in him.

"Mum, Edwin's not gay." At least, he didn't think he was.

"Oh." She shrugged, "Alright then."

"Would it bother you if _I_ was gay?"

She stared at him as if asking him where the hell this was coming all of a sudden. He stared back, dread curling in his chest as the silence thickened.

"No." she smiled, at least she tried to smile, "No, why would I be bothered?"

"Because if you are I can break up with him." He blurted out, remembering how she told him he was too nice for this world, and wondering whether or not she would still think that if he were a gay.

Or a bisexual.

He hadn't had John explain that to him.

Estelle looked alarmed now. "_Him_? So soon? I mean, just after Laura-"

"It's a new thing. I'm just- I'm just trying it out," his heart sinking at the look on her face, as if she was trying not to be disturbed and still was.

His heart was doing a lot of funny things lately.

"So soon after Laura?"

He didn't think he wanted to be with her anymore anyway. "Yes. If- if that's okay with you?"

She looked at him hard for a moment, scrutinizing him, her eyes roaming over his face, "I think I could handle it." She said finally, leaning back, satisfied somehow. She must've found something she liked.

"How old is this boy?" she asked casually.

"He's… 18."

She blinked at him, "A bit young, isn't he?" she tried, eyes narrowing uncertainly.

"His name is John."

She sat back, "Oh."

"… Is it still okay?" he ventured tentatively.

She smiled at him, and it didn't look as painful as it did before, which was good, "Yeah. Do you want me to break it to your father? He's…"

"A bit of a mess?"

He was still a bit nervous around her, but the first stage was passed, at least, for his mother, the rest of his family, he didn't know yet, but her opinion was the only one he really cared about.

"Yeah…" Estelle looked as if she was remembering something unpleasant.

"Never mind. I'll tell him with the rest of the family."

"Of course." She leaned forward and kissed him on his cheek, "I love you," she said, "No matter who you like."

He nodded, significantly more relieved than he was before, "Thanks, mum." He said softly.

* * *

_Estelle and Paul, going by the episodes, are cool, or trying to be cool, with homosexuals. Thus Estelle's reaction. Edwin's general attitude is _i have no fucks to give_._


	6. Interlude: Edwin

When his father interjected himself into Daniel, Laura and Lucy's conversation, saying he didn't think they should have this conversation without Rory, he mentally snorted.

"Trust me, Rory won't mind." He muttered to himself, looking over his newly arrived dildo. Maybe he should give his brother one.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Paul sighed as if it were a big bother that he was still there, turning around to stare at him.

"Oh," he smiled peaceably at his audience, "Nothing."

"Did Rory find a new girlfriend already?" Laura looked distraught, he noted disinterestedly.

"There, there now, I'm sure that's not true," Paul patted her on the shoulder as he turned to him with wide, meaningful eyes. The man had always been a pervert. "Is it, Edwin?"

Was he supposed to play along or tell the truth? Sometimes his father was so confusing, sending out so many mixed signals.

"It's not my place to say." He decided, wrapping his arms around his box of delivered goods, hoisting them up with a small grunt.

"Where are you going?" Paul called to him as he walked away.

"Upstairs."

"You're supposed to be in school!"

He had a project. How many times was he supposed to answer? Why did he think he was ordering so many things? He couldn't wait to inflate those women.

Where was the thing you used to pump up bicycle wheels?

Maybe he could get Daniel to help; after all, it was naked women. Even though his completely disgusting brother already had two women from the same family in bed with him. Now he was going for a threesome, which he doubted very much would happen.


	7. Dinner

"Are you bringing home different boys now?" Edwin raised an eyebrow at him, despite keeping his eyes on his plate, ignoring their parents' conversation.

"Oh shut up, Kevin's just a friend."

"Uh-huh. And apparently he's having dinner with us."

He glanced at Kevin, who was apparently following the adults' conversation with rapt attention. He turned back to Edwin.

It was hard to know what he was thinking sometimes. He was such a strange child. Who should be in school, not questioning his judgement.

"Will your boyfriend be coming over for dinner?" Edwin asked casually, under the cover of everyone else's talking, as if the answer was any of his business.

"No. He's grounded."

Plus, John wasn't answering his calls. Well, he was warned about this.

"He's, what, 18?"

"Yes."

He met his mother's eyes, and she tilted her head slightly to his father. He shook his head, wondering at her; this was such horrible timing, and with guests too.

"Rory,"

He snapped his attention to Daniel, who was surrounded on both sides by both Proek girls, who looked just as interested to what their boyfriend had to say, "I hear you've found someone else."

He turned slowly to glare at Edwin, who didn't even have the decency to look at him.

"It's true then."

"Yes." He said stiffly.

"Who is it? What's her name?"

Edwin raised his head, leaning back in his seat nonchalantly as he watched him, as if interested in his answer.

"You've never met." He said to Daniel, as if nothing was wrong, at all, "There's no chance of you _ever_ sleeping with this one."

"Oh really?"

He met the challenge head on, eyes narrowing as he flexed his palm experimentally, "Yes."

"Oh alright then." Daniel smiled.


	8. Arranging A Second Date

Paul was tactless.

And a complete clown.

He was just finishing his coffee, hurriedly, so as to not almost choke on it again like he did when Lucy started massaging the man. His phone rang.

He turned around to look at his mother – it was John.

"I've got to take this." He said to no one in particular, pushing his chair back as he grasped at his mobile.

"Oh, is it your new girlfriend?"

All eyes were on him thanks to Daniel's little comment, but he ignored it, giving his family a shrug before backing out of the kitchen.

"Hello?" once he was safely in the hall.

"Rory." John sounded relieved over the crackling line, "I'm so sorry I didn't answer you. My father wasn't too pleased about… well. He took my mobile."

"It's alright. Glad to hear you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it sounded like your father doesn't give you a lot of leeway, is all." He shrugged, listening to someone yelling at the background. "Where are you?"

"Walking to school. There's this mother and her child crossing the street." A pause, presumably John was looking at the commotion, "They're fine."

"Oh good. Listen, do you have any spare time?"

"I've got tonight off, if that's okay with you."

"Yeah. I'll see you at the pub, 5 o clock?"

"Okay." He could hear John's smile, see it in his mind; a bit brighter than real life probably. He had to stop romanticizing. It wasn't good. "See you then."

"Bye."

He brought his mobile from his ear, staring at the screen for a moment before he turned around and went back into the kitchen. He pretended he didn't hear chairs scrape and voices hushing, rolling his eyes.

"Plans?" his mother asked innocently.

"Yup."

"So soon after Laura?" Paul stared at him as if disappointed, probably a show for the Proek sisters. Pervert.

_Laura's sleeping with Daniel, so._

"Yeah."

* * *

The problem with fathers invalided home from the army, especially his father, was that they tended to take things too seriously. And the problem with men without their wives, was that they tended to either worry about whether or not they're raising their children well enough, or drown in a sea of despair. Possibly both.

His father was too practical a man to drown in a sea of despair. The problem was that he worried too much, and he worried their mother would be disappointed in him, and in them.

He knew the reasoning behind what his father did, he knew why he did it.

That didn't make it hurt any less.

Sometimes he avoided looking into the mirror in the bathroom, he avoided looking at his body like one avoided the plague, avoided looking about the stripes that adorned his back and chest.

And sometimes he inspected them, traced each of them lightly with his fingers, the ones that hadn't yet faded away – he inspected them all.

His father never drew blood though, no, that was one step too far. One time he did, he apologized relentlessly, cried a little even, and that was how he knew his father cared.

People never really pay attention to his body, they never really _see_.

The punishment was done. He was free to go.

Harry worked at home, she was very good with the computers, she was a very valuable asset to the company she worked at. Essentially she was a good daughter who took no shit from anyone – father was very proud of her. She hadn't taken a lashing in a month.

He on the other hand.

"Never let someone rule your heart." Father told him quietly, watching him dress for his date at the door, arms crossed in front of him.

"It's a second date, father."

"He's older than you, first date and you didn't call to tell where you were. Bad first impression, John."

"I'll be back this time. I promise."

He shrugged on his jacket, pressed a quick kiss to his father's weathered cheek before he went out the door.

* * *

_John's father isn't a bad man. He's just doing his best raising two children on his own. John and Harry knows this._


	9. Second Date

"What're you doing here, John? You're not working today." Robert called above the noise when he entered the pub.

"Meeting someone."

Catrina ignored his presence, which wasn't a fairly hard thing to do, since she was popular with the customers. She didn't like gays, it was clear from the disapproval and the way she looked as if she had been sucking on a lemon when he arrived, but so far she had been trying to be polite about it. She never said anything to him unless it was relatively nice.

He liked her.

"That guy you were talking to two days ago?" Robert wiggled his eyebrows at him.

"Yeah."

He waited by the door, trying not to seem too nervous. Second dates were like that.

Five minutes to 5 ten, Rory arrived, an apology ready as he pushed open the door and greeted him with lips chilly from the cold of outside.

"Sorry, it's been a busy day."

"Better late than never, my mother used to say." He supplied, trying not to show how relieved he was that Rory showed up at all.

He had been stood up before.

"Shall we go?"

His eyebrows hitched up in surprise, "You have something planned?"

Rory smiled at him, "You were expecting our second date here?"

"Here is where we met you dork."

Rory held the door open for him, bowing theatrically for him to leave first, "And while I am glad we have, it's hardly the place for a second date."

It was a little windy outside, but that was to be expected.

"Where then?"

"I was thinking we could go for a walk in the park?" Rory tilted his head in inquiry, as if asking him whether or not that was okay.

He linked their arms together, "Excellent idea," he let the taller boy lead.

"Should I compliment you on your clothes?" underneath Rory's jesting comment was his uncertainty, barely tangible but still there.

He didn't want to make Rory feel uncomfortable, so it was good that he had a natural talent for making people feel at ease around him. Harry had always said it made his girlfriends hard to whisk away, which was good too, because he actually liked some of the girls he brought home.

He huffed a laugh, hands in his pockets, "Do you normally compliment your date's clothes?"

"Yup." Rory smiled at him charmingly, a quirk of his lips.

"Treat this like a normal date."

"You look nice."

"Yeah, because that's really convincing." He laughed, shaking his head, and after a few ticking seconds, Rory joined him in chuckling.

"OI, YOU TWO POOFTERS."

He tensed, head snapping to the left, feeling Rory still beside him. A gaunt man, age lines lining his features, drunk off his feet and coming their way.

"Uh-oh." Rory said quietly, under his breath, looking the man's way.

"Do you know him?" he felt obliged to ask, and it was just their luck that his new boyfriend nodded.

"That's the man who's been chasing after my mother. Was waiting outside our house this morning."

What a creep.

"You poofters ruined my life!"

"Us specifically or homosexuals in general?" he inquired coolly, watching as a few people stalled to watch the confrontation, but didn't come too close or actively engage. Good, because he thought he could take this man on by himself, but not too many people.

"Let me handle this," Rory sighed, stepping forward.

He backed away.

"Dr Pilfrey, how have you been?" Rory said with a smile, a hand reaching out for a shake, which was shoved away, Dr Pilfrey narrowing his eyes at him, darting from Rory to him.

"How do you know me?"

"I'm Rory." The ginger introduced politely, as if they had met under friendly terms and were thinking of going out to have a coffee, "Rory Slippery. You work with my father, remember?"

"_Slippery_." The doctor hissed, spittle flying from his chapped lips, pupils contracting, "You… your whole family- I WILL NOT BE PLAYED WITH, DO YOU HEAR?!" he suddenly shrieked, arms jerking around wildly, "I WILL _NOT_!"

"I'm afraid I don't quite know your meaning," Rory said, stepping back slightly, eyes widening in alarm, "Dr Pilfrey, I don't think you're quite well…"

"Shut up! Shut _up!_"

Rory did, mouth shutting with a click.

"Your slithering vixen of a mother, your wretched father, your conniving brother…" the man advanced menacingly, a finger jabbing at Rory's chest, ignoring the ginger's "Hey now." "And now YOU appear, you and your little_ boyfriend!_ YOU'RE TAKING OVER THIS COUNTRY, YOU POOFTERS EVERYWHERE!"

"Alright," he muttered, pulling his boyfriend back just as Dr Pilfrey made a clumsy lunge at Rory, fingers grasping, "We've tried your way. Now it's my way."

"John, I don't think he can be reasoned with-"

He drew his arm back and swung it, his knuckles making contact with the crazy man's cheek with a loud crack. Dr Pilfrey crumpled to the ground, a hand to his flaming cheek as he started sobbing.

He turned around to see Rory stare at him, eyes wide, the hand covering his mouth falling to his side.

"He lunged first." He said, conscious of the fact that he hadn't exactly asked Rory whether or not he could right-hook his father's colleague.

Rory looked down at the fallen doctor, "I know." He said dumbly, grasping for words, but unable to find anything to say.

"He was rude to your family. I thought, well, I didn't go too hard on him." He scratched at his head, growing increasingly nervous by the second, when Rory stared down at the sobbing man and people gawked at him.

Father had always said, wait until the enemy started first, then you wouldn't be attacking, you'd be defending.

"Too much?" he asked.

"I think we'd better run." Rory said quietly.

"What?"

"Run!" Rory grabbed his hand and pulled him away, far, far, away from the scene of the crime.

No one stopped them, and by the time they came to a halt, in an entirely different part of the neighbourhood, he believed, the hand enveloping his own was slick with sweat.

"That was the most ridiculous thing I have ever done." Rory laughed, chest heaving as he shook his head.

He pulled his hand back, "You're not mad?"

"What?" Rory looked at him, lips stretching in a grin, "_No_, the creep's been after my mother for weeks, months even. I can't believe you punched him. In the middle of the street."

"He started it."

"I know."

Not mad. His lips lifted to match Rory's grin, euphoria travelling through his veins as he thought back the adventure they just had. Delighted at the way he had handled it, delighted that he impressed Rory, he turned to face the ginger, only to have his lips caught in a kiss.

A larger hand curled around the nape of his neck, while he felt the other snaked around his waist. He reached up to grasp at Rory's shoulders, pulling him forward as he pressed them together.

Rory moaned softly, or it may have been him who moaned, or both of them, when he sucked lightly at Rory's tongue, legs weakening, stumbling back until his back hit a wall, and how cliché was that, how long had it been since someone had kissed the air from him?

"Hey! Keep it in your pants, kids!"

Rory pulled back reluctantly, and he slumped against the alley with a dazed smile, blinking rapidly.

"Sorry!" Rory called.

He huffed, chuckling slightly, "I suppose your plan for the park has been…derailed." He said, finally finding the strength to stand on his own two feet.

"Thanks to you punching Dr Pilfrey."

"And you snogging the life out of me."

Rory grinned cheekily at him, "Would you like to meet my family?" he suddenly asked.

His eyes widened, "Really?"

"You punched Dr Pilfrey. They'll love you."

* * *

_Dr Pilfrey's had a bad day, he's not usually like this._


End file.
